


Binding

by aishahiwatari



Series: Trektober 2019 [4]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Collars, First Kiss, Getting Together, Kneeling, Leather, M/M, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 02:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20884754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishahiwatari/pseuds/aishahiwatari
Summary: Why the population of this planet wanted to meet the Captain and his so-called caretaker rather than his damned First Officer is beyond Leonard, but fine. Jim’s seen him naked, stumbling out the shower when they roomed together at the Academy. No way this outfit is any worse than that. Maybe the demonstration will make Jim see sense. He can’t expect him to go out there once he sees what Leonard’s complaining about.(for day 4 of Trektober 2019, prompt: Leather and Latex; Collars)





	Binding

“Think there might have been some sort of mix-up here, Jim.”

“It’s fine, Bones. They just wanted to provide outfits so we’d fit in, you know? Wouldn’t feel too self-conscious in our uniforms. They do kind of draw the eye.”

Leonard’s in the second bedroom of their shared suite, looking over the outfit that’s been laid out for him by their alien hosts. He thinks he’d feel pretty self-conscious in it.

“What are you wearing?” he asks, because even Jim, naturally exhibitionistic and implausibly gorgeous as he is would balk at something like this, he thinks. He picks up one of the leather straps and examines the complex structure of the item more closely.

“It’s not that bad! More comfortable than you’d think. Better than my dress uniform.”

Yeah, they are definitely not looking at the same thing. Leonard comms Uhura, provisionally stripping out of his uniform anyway, just in case.

“What did you say about our clothing, again?”

She sounds surprised, “Just that you’d be happy to wear ceremonial dress. Is there a problem?”

“Just with mine. Reckon they’ll lose their minds if I show up in my uniform?”

“They’re likely to be offended. We didn’t meet any of their medical personnel, though, and when I tried to explain your role, they seemed a little confused. I’ll go back over the transcripts.”

“Thank you,” Leonard’s glad he takes care of himself, or this would be even worse. He considers the outfit for another moment, unsure if he’s willing to take the chance-

“We’re gunna be late, Bones. You know how they are about ceremony here. Will you please just put it on?”

Jim’s in full Captain mode, intent on getting them out there. Why the population of this planet wanted to meet the Captain and his so-called caretaker rather than his damned First Officer is beyond Leonard, but fine. Jim’s seen him naked, stumbling out the shower when they roomed together at the Academy. No way this outfit is any worse than that. Maybe the demonstration will make Jim see sense. He can’t expect him to go out there once he sees what Leonard’s complaining about.

The black, shiny shorts are brutally tight, although at least there’s a little give in them. He kind of has to shuffle a little to convince his briefs not to show beneath them. It probably shouldn’t matter if they do. He’s not going out dressed like this. Somehow he manages, has to squash a few things in, tells himself it’s not for long. There are boots, too, and they’re not so bad. He might see if he can keep those, actually. 

The top -is it a top? Really it’s just a collection of black leather straps held together by metal rings- gives him a little more trouble, but he gets it over his shoulders eventually, fastens it around his ribs, just underneath his pectorals. There are some tassles that fall over his shoulders and back that kind of give the illusion of covering more skin than they actually do.

All in all, it’s horrifying. He has a sinking suspicion that his position as “one who provides care to the Captain” has been flagrantly misunderstood. He regards himself in the silvery mirror for a moment, then decides he can’t delay any more, can hardly wait on a call from Uhura that might not even tell him anything useful, and goes to lean in the doorway to his room.

He was right about Jim having a better outfit; his pants are looser, his boots going almost to his knees where Leonard’s reach just above his ankles, and he’s wearing a soft-looking shirt that just has leather trim. He’s sat in a chair, looking at his padd but Leonard draws his attention with a knock on the doorframe, and Jim drops it and stares, open-mouthed.

“Still think I should wear this? Just out of interest? You said something about feeling less self-conscious this way, I think?”

“Uhh-“

Wow. Leonard’s never rendered Jim speechless before. He looks like his brain’s gone offline, can’t stop staring, and he’s seen a lot over the years. Leonard can’t help preening a little, stretches his arms so his muscles flex, and the leather against his shoulders shifts and creaks. “Haven’t worn anything like this in a long time. It’s probably not that different, actually, going out there with a bunch of strangers and somebody I’m supposed to call Sir.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jim’s blinking like he’s been blinded, is reeling, looks like he can barely breathe. As a medical professional, Leonard should probably be more concerned.

In fact- “You alright, Jim?” he approaches, reaches out and Jim literally scrambles back and away from him, then tries to cover it with an unconvincing laugh.

“Maybe you were right about the outfit. I’ll, uhh- see if I can convince them to send up something a little more conservative.”

He disappears into his room. Huh. Interesting. Leonard takes a seat, picks up Jim’s padd, and entertains himself for a while, thinking.

Sure enough, somebody knocks at their door a short while later, and they come bearing clothing. Now Leonard knows to look, he sees how the local alien species, pale-skinned humanoids with big, dark eyes, defer to Jim far more than they do to him. His outfit, as promised, attracts nothing more than the briefest glance.

He’s presented with an armful of leather, for which he thanks the bearer politely, if a little doubtfully, and then Jim is approached. He can’t meet Leonard’s eyes, seems kind of vague, has his fake smile plastered on but is civil and grateful and charming.

Leonard retreats to check over this new clothing, snorts when he sees it’s just a leather skirt, kind of like a kilt, although thankfully this one comes to his knees. Well, at least nobody at this ceremonial dinner is going to want to speak to him when this so clearly denotes his position.

The thought kind of cheers him, and he strips the shorts off with a sigh of relief, pulls the kilt on instead. It’s made of thick strips of leather, so when he walks there are glimpses of his thighs from the side, but it’s a marked improvement. It might have to do. At least he can strap a scanner to his leg beneath it.

Jim looks like he’s going to have some sort of meltdown when he emerges again, and he looks away almost immediately, unconsciously clenching his hands into fists just for a moment. Like he’s holding himself back.

Leonard is beginning to suspect what’s happening here.

There’s no chance for them to talk about it, though. They’re marched down to the dining hall, and now Leonard knows what’s expected of him, he walks a step behind Jim instead of at his side, and nobody talks to him.

They’ll be alright, if only Jim can stop looking so markedly panicked whenever nobody’s paying attention to him. He wipes his hands on his shirt more than once during the walk to the dining room, even though it’s not particularly warm, and when there’s an opening Leonard steps up. He’d startle and stop when Leonard leans in to murmur to him quietly, if it weren’t for the hand Leonard lays at the small of his back, keeping him walking.

“We’re alright, Jim. Focus on this for now.”

Jim looks desperately lost for a moment, like he wants to say something but can’t find the words or the space or the time. Then he nods, still a little unsteady but improving, takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says nonsensically, as more local aliens seek to attend to him, doesn’t seem to be able to help the way his gaze drifts down Leonard’s body before he’s forced to redirect his attention.

If Leonard had known this was all it would take to break Jim’s resolve, his strangely intent and frankly aggravating decision not to cross that line in their relationship, he would have done it a long time ago.

As it is, he’s politely provided with a drink he didn’t ask for and follows the crowd gathering around Jim. Occasionally he’s missed, and Jim glances around to find him, but he’s not going anywhere and nobody seeks to get between them. He does his best to nod and smile reassuringly, and although Jim looks confused at first, he seems to gradually find his confidence.

They’re seated at dinner, thankfully next to each other because Leonard would honestly have objected otherwise, local custom be damned.

“You look amazing,” Jim confesses, after the first round of toasts allows him a free moment to studiously not look too closely at Leonard.

“I’ll keep it on when we get back, if you like.”

Jim makes a strangled squeaking noise and reaches for his drink.

Dinner is a long, dragging affair, full of toasts to various political figures neither of them have ever met, and Jim knows to take small sips but he’s still loosening up a little with each round. By the time they make it through the fourth course, some sort of fruit- and meat-based stew, Jim’s cautiously edging closer every time he drops his arm to his side after gesturing with his hands in conversation.

When his fingertips just brush the edge of the kilt, Leonard just rolls his eyes, takes hold of Jim’s wrist and sets his hand on his thigh, just beneath the leather. He winks when Jim turns to him, wide-eyed, and Jim squeezes just briefly with a smile before he returns to his conversation. He doesn’t move his hand. Leonard doesn’t want him to. It’s making him feel warm inside, and Jim’s reassured by his presence.

After dinner, Jim is just getting out of his seat when one of the alien officials approaches them, and thanks them for their attendance. They have an ornate box in their hands, and they open it, apparently presenting Jim with the contents.

Jim’s smile gets slightly broader, infinitely more tense. Leonard misses the touch of his hand already, doesn’t dare get too close until he realises Jim is frozen, just staring at the contents of the box.

He bumps Jim’s shoulder companionably, accidentally catches a glimpse of what has Jim so stunned.

He’s seen a few of them around, that evening, now he knows to look for them. There are aliens dressed like him, and far less conservatively than him, and although they are generally not as forthright in their presence as Leonard, their allegiance is made clear.

By the collars around their throats.

As far as Leonard can tell, Jim is being given a choice of three slightly different options, each with a matching bracelet for him. It’s significant to both their cultures, is possibly the greatest commitment Jim has ever offered anyone. It doesn’t bother Leonard. He’s been Jim’s for a long time, already.

“They’re lovely,” he offers both Jim and the alien official, who looks suitably appeased, and then he nudges Jim in the back, hard, with his knuckles.

That seems to help. Jim manages to look like he’s considering his options rather than outright panicking, at least. “Which one do you like?” he asks.

Leonard’s seen the collars, properly, by then. They’re all dark, not quite black but shining with tints of different colours. There’s a reddish one, a greenish one and one that hints towards the colour of the sky at midnight, adorned with tiny jewels like stars. “I think you know.”

Jim manages a sincere thanks as he carefully picks up that last one, is shown how to work the unfamiliar design of buckle, turns to Leonard with love shining in his eyes so clearly Leonard has no idea how he’s never seen it before.

Jim’s breath catches when Leonard sinks smoothly to his knees and bares his throat, and his hands shake when they touch Leonard’s skin. When Leonard brushes the softest, briefest of kisses to his wrist, Jim nearly sobs, gives him a watery smile and a hand up.

“Weirdest first date ever,” Leonard leans in to murmur in his ear when various sets of eyes are averted for a moment to give them privacy, but more are staring at them from a discrete distance.

“Speak for yourself.” But Jim’s eyes are filled with promise, and humour, and he threads their fingers together just briefly before he returns his attention to their hosts.

-

“Do you have any idea how you look?” Jim asks him, the second thing he does when they’re through the door to their suite. The first thing he did was shove Leonard up against it, and kiss him hard, long and deep until they were both breathless. That’s also the third thing he does, neither of them willing to release their hold on the other for long enough to get anywhere more comfortable,

“The skirt is so much worse than the shorts,” Jim murmurs against his lips, hands already sneaking up beneath that fabric to touch, needy and covetous, at Leonard’s skin.

“Speak for yourself,” Leonard grumbles, even as he kisses back, because the shorts had been deeply uncomfortable, “I prefer to keep my balls on the outside of my body, thanks.”

Jim snorts, sags against him, holds him tight. “Are we really doing this?” he asks, with uncharacteristic uncertainty. He’s back to being unable to look Leonard in the eye, just buries his face in his shoulder, pants warm air against his skin.

“I don’t get all dressed up like this for just anyone, you know.”

Jim hums, amused and pleased all at once, and Leonard takes his hand to bring it to his throat, to have him touch the tangible evidence of his claim. “I’m yours, Jim. You know I don’t give a damn about what these people think. I would have refused if I didn’t want this.”

There’s another of those soft sounds, Jim thumbing along the band, making Leonard shiver at the caress to his skin. Jim shows no inclination to move, though, and Leonard is very, very uncomfortable, not with that, but definitely the entire rest of his outfit.

“Jim, I love you, and I’ll never pressure you, but if you don’t help me out of this outfit right now I’m going to take a picture of it and put it in my report to the Admiralty.”

Jim’s so utterly outraged that he releases him to whole-heartedly glare, eyes dark and intense. “Don’t you fucking dare, Bones. You’re mine and we’ve got the matching jewellery to prove it.”

Leonard just throws his arms up, outwardly ambivalent, walks towards Jim’s bedroom with his back straight and his hips swaying, and waits for him to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m also on [Tumblr](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/)


End file.
